A Silent Waltz
by MidnightMoonSong
Summary: Some Sweenett fluff, perhaps a little out of character but fluffy and sweet nonetheless.


A Silent Waltz to Set Your Heart Ablaze

_Oh Mr. Todd, if you only knew, Mr. Todd…_

Mrs. Lovett gave a great sigh; the end of another day had come. Her dark eyes and the deep circles around them were the product of such days as this. To look at her she seemed so weary and yet so resilient, she had a kind of fragile strength about her. She shook her head a little to clear it, her soft, messy curls bouncing about her face. Toby was already off to bed, the poor thing had worked to exhaustion for her as always. She was waiting patiently for Mr. Todd as she flitted about the shop cleaning this and that. The sound of his ever-present pacing above her head had ceased, she expected him shortly. Many nights she would lie awake and listen to him pace, she wondered if he slept at all. Now his approach was almost palpable, like a storm coming ever closer. The baker began to wonder if that simple barber would ever notice her, notice how she felt for him. If he only knew what she… The tinkling of the bell on the door interrupted her musings.

Ah.

And there he was.

Sweeney strode into the room almost soundlessly, his dark hair disheveled. How she longed to run her fingers through it, pull him close and…

"Mrs. Lovett." he muttered darkly, slumping into a chair at a nearby table.

"Mr. Todd." she chirped back happily, setting his dinner before him.

He stared at the food for a moment or two before turning slowly to look up at her with those eyes.

Oh, those eyes.

Her heart fluttered a little as a slight blush crept up into her cheeks. His eyes were dark and stormy; she fancied she saw a bit of loneliness there from time to time. But perhaps it was imagined. Or wished.

He held her gaze for a few heartbeats more before he returned to staring at the table. Well, she supposed she knew that look. Mrs. Lovett went to the cabinet and returned with a full bottle of gin and an empty glass, setting them down wordlessly. Sweeney gave a slight nod and she returned to her work.

Mr. Todd certainly was a man of few words. Well, that was fine, for she was a woman of many. The baker chattered on while Sweeney drank in silence leaving his food mostly untouched. Though she knew he never listened to a bit of what she said, it still did her good to talk to him. But if only he knew how she hung onto his every word, every glance, every gesture like it was her lifeline. She supposed that was part of what he was to her, a lifeline. One that she was strongly tethered to.

Mrs. Lovett was humming merrily to herself when she felt the barber staring at her again. She set down the load of dishes in her arms and turned to look at him.

"Now wha's the matta' love?" she asked soothingly, hands on her hips.

He offered no reply and his gaze held steady, burning her.

"Now, now Mr. T. Wha's gotten inta' ya?" she took a small step forward, her head tilted to one side, soft curls spilling over one shoulder.

In one swift motion, he strode from his seat toward her. The baker stumbled back a step and hurried to regain her composure. The closeness of him was dizzying. She wanted so badly to step forward and close the space between them but she didn't dare. Sweeney took another deliberate step to her until they were almost touching.

"Mrs. Lovett."

His voice was like the rumble of thunder heard from far away.

"M-mr. Todd." She managed to stammer, her heart fluttering frantically like a caged bird.

Without another word, he grabbed one of her soft hands in his and let the other settle on her small waist. Before she could gather her thoughts, they were twirling around the floor together in a silent waltz. All the while, his eyes burned with an intensity she had never seen there before. Mrs. Lovett soon found herself lost in the swirling turns of the dance and she fancied she heard the music. It was wild, unpredictable, and possibly a bit dangerous. In it she could still feel that ache, that longing…

Wild and dangerous, much like the man before her. The music pounded in her ears, or maybe it was just the frantic beating of her heart. Why did she need him so badly? Chasing after him for scraps of attention like some stray dog. Only to be met with indifference and, more often then not, anger. Her head spun dizzily as her thoughts slipped away from her. They had stopped moving, his fiery eyes on hers. A chill ran through her as he reached for her face. He gently touched one of her soft curls before trailing his fingers along her cheek. They left trails of fire in their wake.

For once, she was speechless.

Suddenly, he crushed her to him, his strong form enveloping her small one. Mrs. Lovett stood stock still, not daring to move, as he buried a hand in her silky curls to cup the back of her head. He tilted his head down and his soft hair brushed her face. She could feel his breath on her neck. Hot. Like fire. And she was burning.

"Nellie…" he whispered.

Her knees buckled but he held her fast.

"Nellie." he purred, "My sweet Nellie."

Mrs. Lovett was shaking in his arms, quivering from his words that seared into her soul. She blamed the gin for this. He couldn't actually…care? Could he? Surely, it was the gin. It was unthinkable to assume he felt what she did.

"Mr. Todd-"

"Sweeney." he growled in reply.

Throwing caution to the wind, she tentatively wound her arms around him. Expecting to be shoved away in anger or hatred at any moment. She hesitated then gently ran her fingers through his mane of hair.

So soft…

"Mr.-"

His lips brushed her neck and her breath caught. He kissed a tender spot on her throat and she could feel the growl rumbling deep in his chest. The time for pretending was over, the floodgates were opened, the walls crashed to the ground.

"Sweeney." It was like fire on her tongue. "Oh, Sweeney."

"My Pet."

He nipped at her neck before pulling her into a crushing kiss.

It was all too much, her knees wobbled again then gave out entirely and he easily supported her small frame. Mrs. Lovett swooned but held tight to him, to the feel of him, to this moment. She drank him in; beneath the gin, he tasted dark and sweet. A small moan of longing escaped her and he answered with one of his own. It sounded almost painful. She reached up to touch his face; he was burning up as if he had a fever. The barber tilted his head to deepen the kiss and when his tongue brushed past hers, she whimpered slightly. Mrs. Lovett's world had contracted to this one moment in time and it shattered pitifully when he pulled away.

Well, she was waiting for that.

"Bugger." she muttered darkly, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

She braced herself for whatever was next; hoping he would only hit her or shove her away. Wounds on the surface left by violence always healed quicker than those left on the heart by unkind words. It was due to that sad fact that she had survived her previous marriage. She had felt stronger for all she had endured but still had given in so easily to the hope Sweeney offered. Mrs. Lovett waited a few seconds more and, finding no retribution forthcoming, dared to open her eyes.

Soft doe-like eyes met dark and fiery ones.

He still held her, gazing at her with the most curious expression. The baker couldn't decide what it was exactly, only that he was wrestling with something within himself. She looked up at him with those large eyes, made even more entrancing and innocent by the dark circles surrounding them. Sweeney looked back at her, eyebrows knit together in a worried sort of look. Using all the strength she had, the walls were put back up. She stepped out of his embrace, finding her voice again.

"Well then Mr. Todd." she cleared her throat and regained her composure slightly. "I fancy you'll be wantin' ta forget 'bout tha', so I'll jus' leave ya be now."

She turned to go, tears already betraying her.

"No." it was soft and uncertain. Then again, somewhat firmer. "No. Stay."

She turned to face him, resolve melting instantly. He looked so lost and confused. It was so strange for him to be this way. This was the man who took lives with a swish of his wrist and he seemed almost frightened of the small woman before him.

"Nellie I-" he let the sentence hang.

Mrs. Lovett decided that if she was going to suffer for this later then she may as well bloody enjoy it now. She slipped back into his embrace, nuzzling into his strong chest.

"S'all righ' love." she murmured soothingly. "Ya don' 'ave ta 'splain."

He slid his head down again to nuzzle and nip at her neck. She let out a breathy little moan and greedily inhaled his scent. It was warm and dark like his eyes, or his touch, and perhaps his heart. She drifted back to where she had been before and let the bliss sweep over her.

"Sweeney…" she purred, the need evident in her soft voice.

He growled in response and took her into another feverish kiss. Bolder this time, she pressed against him and easily matched his eagerness. She slipped her tongue into his hot mouth and he moaned hungrily. He pulled away from her again, eyes wild and passionate. He was so different from the brooding man she was used to. He seemed so…alive.

Surely, this moment could not be surpassed.

Just then, he easily swept her up into his strong arms, cradling her against him. Sweeney took a tentative step in the direction of her bedroom and glanced down at her to judge her expression.

Oh.

And with that realization the previously perfect moment shattered into pieces on the floor. Mrs. Lovett blushed deeply as the butterflies in her stomach struggled to escape. She looped her arms about his neck and gave him a gentle kiss that said all he needed to know. He strode off to her room, shutting the door behind them. Moonlight streamed through the windows as Sweeney gently set the baker on her feet. In the pale light, he looked even more beautiful then she could have dreamed.

"Sweeney I-"

He put a finger to her lips.

"You talk far too much, my Pet."

"But I 'ave ta tell ya tha' I-"

The look on his face made her stop. He wasn't ready to hear her feelings when he was still struggling with his own. She nodded slightly.

"No words then, Love."

She stepped forward into his arms again.

"Perhaps just a few." he murmured. "My sweet, sweet Nellie."

"My Sweeney." she said it like a sigh.

Her fingers fluttered to his collar and began undoing the line of buttons while his slipped to her back to unlace her corset. With a shock, she realized his hands were shaking. For her he had become such a tender thing.

Mrs. Lovett kissed him again deeply as they fell onto the bed moments later. Her body cried out in joy to have him so close. His strong arms around her, his chest pressed to hers, his bare skin like fire against her. He became almost frantic in his need for her and she sensed he was driving away all the anguish and rage that lay inside him. Well, she would do her very best to fill that empty space with her love for, at this moment, it was boundless.

Later she lay there watching him doze in the moonlight, his wild mane spread out in stark contrast to the soft white pillow. He looked magnificent there beside her. There had been passion in it, she decided, and lust, and need, and fire, and a longing. But was there love?

Perhaps.

Well, she could hope at any rate, for it had carried her this far. And at the very least, she could dream. Dream forever about this night, she tucked the memory close to her heart. Mrs. Lovett ran a hand along his forehead and through his soft hair, fingering the streak of white that all but glowed in the moonlight. Sweeney's brow furrowed and he groaned painfully in his sleep.

"Nnn…Lu…Lucy…"

The baker's heart cracked but did not shatter. She knew she would never be like his Lucy, that he'd never love her like that. It was foolish of her to think otherwise. A shining tear slid down her face as she brought her hand down to stroke his cheek. He leaned into her touch and murmured again, face peaceful.

"Nellie…"

Something like a smile crossed his sleeping face.

She still had hope then, at the very least, she may mean something to him. If the silly barber only knew the extent of what she felt. She did everything for him, for love. It was out of love for him that she trudged to the basement to butcher the corpses, that she baked them into pies and sold them to the masses. It was out of love that she washed his bloody shirts and cleaned the bloody floors. It was out of love that she climbed those stairs to his shop countless times each hour to see if he needed anything, only to be dismissed with a piercing glare. Everything she did was full of love for him; it was just that all the blood and pain clouded his vision. He would see in time. In time he would notice her, really notice her. The life they would live together had begun tonight; she fancied she could already hear the waves breaking on the shore and smell the salt in the air.

Mrs. Lovett nestled closer to her love, fighting sleep. She knew that in the morning she would no longer be his Nellie, with the rising of the sun Mrs. Lovett would return in her place. The walls would go back up. Hell, she would take them down brick by brick if she had to. Anything to be with him, to ease his pain. Her heavy eyelids drooped a little and she whispered quietly to his sleeping form.

"Oh if you only knew, Mr. Todd..." she smiled sadly as sleep tugged at her. "My Sweeney."

Just before unconsciousness took her, she thought she heard a voice whisper softly in her ear. It sounded low and warm like the rumble of thunder off in the distance.

"Oh but I do know, Nellie, my Love. I do. I always have."


End file.
